


Earnest Melodrama On A January Night

by graywrites



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Angst, F/F, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 08:00:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7968712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graywrites/pseuds/graywrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maya is playing a losing game, and impulse control is tricky on snowy nights when you can't breathe. She knows that better than anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Earnest Melodrama On A January Night

**Author's Note:**

> Ouch, man. Prompt. Had fun with this one, really did, but ouch.

No matter what you do, you lose, and isn’t that sort of fucking sick?

You dig your fingernails into your palms, because you’re getting good at keeping your mouth shut- how could you not be? Isn’t that all you do? 

Well, what the hell are you _supposed_ to do, huh? Tell her? She’ll think it’s creepy. She won’t say it, she’d never SAY it, but she’ll think it, because honestly, it is! 

Look at yourself! You’re.. staring at her. You. All the time. And thinking about her as more than a friend. And when she grabs your hand your heart stops, that’s not supposed to happen. And, honestly, at the end of the day, isn’t that almost, like, predatory? Because she’s not thinking about it that way, and she’ll just be being normal and friendly with you, and you’ve got, this- this _secret_ in the back of your head, that you think about her as more than a friend, and-

“Maya?” She says gently, moving your chin to face her. Your ears ring and your face flushes. “Maya, are you okay?” She says, furrowed brows and concern in her eyes. 

“Uh huh,” You choke out, but your throat is dry, and you feel inconsolably guilty that you get this _pleasure_ when she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, different than when you were just friends- you ARE just friends, she’s just your friend, stop being weird!

“Maya, you’re worrying me,” She says, grabbing your hands, and she doesn’t know that it hurts you, but it’s not her fault. How could it be? She doesn’t know you feel this way. She doesn’t know that you’re- you’re- _bad_ or something, and your brain is running itself in circles, and you feel like hitting something, or breaking something, because it’s so hard to breathe around her now, but you love her more than anyone in the world.

“I’m fine, Riley,” You sigh with the melodramatic weight of the world spilling out of your lungs like balloons with holes in the sides. You run a hand through your hair, if only an excuse to get her to stop holding it. What the fuck is wrong with you?

This is killing you, honestly, but what’s your alternative? You can’t tell her. You just can’t. She straight, and you know that, and you’re doing this anyways, letting her act this way around you anyways, but you can’t _tell_ her, because then she knows, and then you won’t even be _friends_ anymore. That would kill you even more.

If she knew, it would freak her out. She’s straight, she doesn’t like you, why is that so hard to get through your thick skull? Why are you so stupid? Because you know, Oh, God, you fucking know that you don’t stand a chance in hell, and yet she’ll say something, or do something, or just brush hands with you, and just for a minute, you feed into this sick _pipe dream_ or whatever of yours, and that’s WRONG, because she’s straight! She doesn’t like you! Why can’t you just fucking get that?

“Maya,” She presses, serious this time, “you’re being weird, Maya, please, talk to me,” she looks at you with a set jaw and expectant eyes.

It’s fucking killing you. Every time she looks at you, you fucking _shiver_ , every time she talks to you your face flushes, you can’t live like this! You can’t live like this anymore, your chest is collapsing, you just can’t do this! 

It’s messy and rushed and full of tense muscles and matched with a splitting stress induced migraine, but it’s a kiss. You kiss her. And it’s so fucked up, but you kiss her. 

And then you pull back.

Your stomach absolutely sinks, and your whole body locks up, and you stammer out syllables that don’t exist, but she doesn’t hear you. She’s blinking, mouth still slightly open, eyes trained steadily at the wall behind you.

“I, um..” She mumbles weakly. You look away, swallow hard.

“...Do you want me to leave?” You ask, but you’re already and opening her window. 

“Maya, don’t,” She says tiredly, but you’re already walking out into the snow. 

It burns your skin in a raw, cold way, and it’s dark, now, and the streetlights don’t do much for you as you stagger aimlessly through the snow storm. 

And then you’re laughing, in the middle of an empty street. Laughing, and crying, a little, a lot, too, because you just ruined the only good thing in your life, and yet somehow, in the middle of this fucking ashy blizzard, all you can think about is how much you wish you didn’t leave your jacket on the couch. 

Isn’t that just fucking hilarious?

**Author's Note:**

> I'd appreciate a review! Makes my day. Request a fic at gayrilaya.tumblr.com/ask


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